Thursday, February 3, 2011

1944, Daisy, and all her Children

I read an amazing story today, and I held Daisy and the little girl with whom I hope she was reunited close to my heart....

Lost sister finally found her four brothers after 65 years

More than 65 years after her mother gave her up for adoption, Suzanne Brett went looking for her birth family – and discovered four younger brothers, who knew nothing of her existence, living less than 30 miles away. ALICE HUTTON hears about her remarkable story

The envelope looked out of place on the doormat. Next to the bills, it had a neat, hand-written address label taped to the front. Chris turned it over in his hands, then slit the top open carefully and took out a letter. Its contents revealed a secret that had lain hidden since its inception on June 25, 1944, at Mill Road Maternity Hospital in Cambridge.

Blowing the cobwebs off a decades-old mystery, the letter was filled with wartime love affairs, a lost daughter and potential new families, which, if the landscape gardener from Fowlmere was honest, was quite a lot to take in on a Friday morning.

Step back to 1944. The officers’ mess at RAF Bassingbourn is filled with cigarette smoke and pilots with Brylcreemed side partings living on the brittle edge of life.

Young Englishmen are training, and dying, to protect Britain’s skies, while Cambridgeshire’s women are leaving the security of their parents’ homes and signing up to the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force (WAAF) in their droves.

Around the corner there’s a camp of American soldiers, their pockets full of treasures rationed to the point of myth; silk stockings, make-up and chocolate. Among the flocks of young WAAF members, caps perched on their victory-rolled hair, the often-doomed servicemen make love as well as war. It is, at the same time, a liberating, exciting and dangerous time for all involved.

More than six decades later, sitting around an oak table in The Fox pub in Bar Hill, Suzanne Brett, 66, and Chris Wall, 57, speculate about the events that led to the letter which brought them together.

They admit they will never know the circumstances that saw their mother, Daisy Taylor, a member of the WAAF, unmarried and pregnant at 23 years old. Or why, soon after Angela Mary Taylor was born, Daisy gave her up, and died 60 years later without telling her four sons about their older sister.

For Suzanne, from St Ives, being given up at birth could easily have been the end of the story.

Taken in and re-named Suzanne by a loving couple at just six weeks old, she found out she was adopted at the age of 6. Determined never to hurt her parents, she decided to wait until they died before looking for answers. With just her birth certificate to go on, she scoured adoption websites, but came away empty handed and gave up.

Then, last summer, into the frame stepped two of the unlikeliest white knights: daytime chat show host Trisha and a Scottish woman called Liz. Sipping a glass of white wine, Suzanne explains: “I happened to watch a Trisha programme last summer and she mentioned websites to trace birth relatives.

“I posted a message giving a short history with my name, my birth name, date and my mother’s name. And then I waited.” She reaches into a folder bulging with papers and pulls out a well-read email. “This arrived in my inbox 48 hours later.” In just two days, the now infamous ‘Liz of Scotland’ had scoured endless registration-only sites and, free of charge, gathered up a gold mine of ‘lost’ information, including Chris’s name, address and telephone number, plus Daisy’s marriage certificate and death certificate, which told Suzanne that, whoever else she now found, she was six years too late to meet her mother.

“She must have been up all night,” Suzanne explains, looking incredulous. “And she didn’t want any payment, she just wanted to help.”

Suzanne immediately wrote to Chris, who lives in Fowlmere.

“I opened the envelope very carefully because I just wasn’t sure what was in there,” says Chris. “I was shocked, stunned, all those things, to read Suzanne’s letter. All the information she had given was absolutely correct. So the next step was to email my three brothers and say, boys, we may have a sister.” After comparing names and addresses on birth certificates, the five of them decided to meet, bringing all of Daisy’s children together for the first time. It was an emotional evening for everyone, not least because not one, but two crucial people were missing.

Daisy died in 2004, aged 84. Many years earlier, she had given birth to a stillborn baby girl, who she told her sons she always longed to hold. “It was a real sadness for us boys,” says Chris, “because we knew that mum had had a little girl. Now we know she was longing for the daughter she gave up, as well as the daughter she lost.

“When I was younger, I always wanted a little sister, now I have a big sister.” Suzanne, tears flowing silently down her cheeks, still finds the memory of that first night overpowering.

“I grew up as an only child,” she explains softly, “so this is a bit overwhelming for me. We met for dinner and talked all night; they made me feel like one of them.” Flipping through the pages of the photo album the brothers put together for their new sister, a beautiful, fresh-faced woman beams out from every page, and from the brothers’ stories emerges a picture of a fun-loving, kind mother who was well respected by the local community.

So well respected, Chris believes, that it explains how Suzanne’s birth almost remained hidden from them forever.

“I spoke to family members, widows of uncles, friends of the family, even the woman who made my wife’s wedding dress, and as it turns out, everybody already knew – everyone but us. What they said to me was it wasn’t a secret, they just never spoke of it out of respect for our mother.

“There must have been hundreds that knew, apart from us four brothers, including our father.” Daisy married Horace Wall in 1946 and the couple moved to Melbourn, where they raised four sons: Peter, Edward, Michael and Chris.

But what of Suzanne’s birth father? The section on the birth certificate is blank. Was he an officer she met when working at RAF Bassingbourn, an American soldier, or a local man?

For the brothers there is no proof that Horace, who died a few years ago, is not her father as well. And that is the way they would like it to stay.

“Horace and our mum were childhood sweethearts and got ‘married’ in the school play when they were 5 years old, so in our minds they were married 20 years before anyway,” says Chris.

“We will never know for sure, but that is what we would like to think.” For Suzanne, the journey is over and she is clearly overjoyed to find such warmth and acceptance.

“When I was growing up I never thought about being adopted, it never bothered me as I had such a happy childhood.

No comments:

Becoming...

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

The soul still sings in the darkness telling of the beauty she found there; and daring us not to think that because she passed through such tortures of anguish, doubt, dread, and horror, as has been said, she ran any the more danger of being lost in the night. Nay, in the darkness did she, rather, find herself.